


Best of Lives

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Implications at a past relationship between peter and breadbin, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, NSFW, Strong Language, also patrick and ryan being bROS, i warned you, i'm serious it's hella gay, it's hella gay, this book is hella gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-06-08 15:31:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15246375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Every time I wake up, I'm fucking terrified somebody else might take my place as the person you're supposed to hate,""Why?""Because at least it gives you a reason to look at me,"





	1. Prologue

_B.U. has requested to chat_

ACCEPT?

_ACCEPTED_

**You**

I blocked you for a fucking reason.

 

**B.U.**

Chill. I just wanted to talk.

 

**You**

Funny. Things didn't go very well last time you said that.

 

**B.U.**

That wasn't my fault.

 

**You**

Is anything ever your fault?

 

**B.U.**

I didn't text you again to argue.

 

**You**

What do you want then?

 

**B.U.**

I need your help.

 

**You**

. . .


	2. One

-!-

"What do you mean he needs your help?"

Patrick was hardly paying attention, his small fingers twirled in Ryan's hair. He was just telling his friend about his recent messages with none other than Brendon Urie himself.

Just his name made Ryan's skin crawl, and Patrick knew it. Which was why Ryan ended up in Patrick's lap with the strawberry blonde's hands roaming his own brunette locks. It was a totally straight thing, completely heterosexual of them.

"He didn't say. But there's no way in fucking hell I'm talking to him anymore," Ryan grumbled. His cheeks grew red with annoyance. How  _dare_ Urie try and contact him again? It was bullshit.  _He_ was bullshit.

It was a typical high schooler thing of him to say of course, but it was true. Urie and all of his jock friends could fuck off. He had better things to worry about than same douchebag asking for his help.

But Urie wasn't just someone he hated. Urie was  _the_ person to hate for plenty of reasons.

He was undeniably gorgeous.

He was popular.

He was loved by everyone.

He had the world at his fingertips, and Ryan felt he could explode by just thinking about it. The worst thing, was Ryan knew the dick personally. How ironic was it that he lived right next to him. A good 2 minute walk away. Horrible.

"You can't talk to him. Pete would be _furious_. You know how he is," Patrick mumbled, letting a brown curl wrap itself around his finger.

Ryan huffed. "Pete doesn't have to know,"

"Have you told Tyler yet? Gee?" Patrick pressed.

"No,"Ryan shook his hair out and got up from his place on Patrick's lap. "Tyler was MIA last night and Gee was probably making out with Frank or some shit. And Mikey's sick as fuck so I couldn't call him,"

It was ironic how social his friends were, considering they were Junior class losers.

The blonde sighed. "You should at least tell your aunt..."

Ryan looked up at him, a clear look of alarm and disbelief on his face. "Hell no! She'd have my hide if I told her I was talking to him again," He paused. "Which I'm not,"

"Whatever," Patrick rolled his eyes with a chuckle as he made his way toward Ryan's open window. "Good luck, Beatleboy,"

"Shut up," Ryan snapped back lightheartedly. He turned and watched his friend crawl halfway onto the roof.

"Hey Ry?" The blonde stuck his head through the window once again.

"Yeah?"

Ryan watched as Patrick's lips twisted into a grin. "You look like a strawberry when your face is red like that,"

"Haha." Ryan rolled his eyes. "Your face is always red,"

"I have sensitive skin. What's your excuse?"

Ryan bristled. "Get out of here, asshole,"

-!-

When Ryan arrived at school the next day it was still dark. The sky was just fading into a deep violet, and he could see the sun through the tree line of the baseball field. He had to admit, it was gorgeous.

He was always this early. Not only did he get to avoid Urie in the mornings, but he had to be, his role as Ms. Mankley's intern was on the line.

Mankley was one of the art teachers, and Ryan's favorite. But it wasn't just a one way liking, she'd told him plenty of times he was he favorite as well. He wasn't the greatest at art himself, but he tried his best, and that was why she had given him the internship well at the beginning of the year. Ryan hadn't complained for a second. Any excuse to get out of class just to go to the art room was valid.

Most of the halls were empty, as expected. The only exception being the principal and a few rogue teachers Ryan didn't know. He was the only student, thankfully.

He followed the all too familiar path to Mankley's classroom, avoiding eye contact with passing teachers as he did. He could hear the music from the hall far before he was near the class.

She always blasted music during her free periods, and the only reason she got away with it was because her room was isolated from the rest.

"Morning," Ryan sat his backpack down in his seat, the one closest to Mankley's desk. He watched the coiled back curls of her afro bounce as she looked at him.

"Good morning indeed!" Her lips pulled into her famous million dollar smile. "What's shakin'?"

Ryan noticed the smears of gray and yellow paint on her face. She always had them. Paint on almost everything she owned. I wasn't intentional, but it was what made Ms. Mankley Ms. Mankley.

"Nothing too interesting," He shrugged, heading toward one of the open easels Mankley kept open for him. "Same old I guess,"

"Liar," she said almost instantly with a small chuckle. "But you'll get away with it this time,"

Ryan let out a breath. "Thank you,"

He leaned down and grabbed a small paint brush, reminiscing and remembering the colors of the sky mere moments before he stepped foot into the building.

"Did you read the paper this morning?" Mankley asked out of the blue.

Ryan shook his head. "No one my age reads the paper anymore," He spread a line of black across the bottom of the canvas.

"Right, because I'm so old," Ryan could also hear her curls bounce as she shook her head. "A highschooler in Lakers committed suicide last night. Poor kid, only 16. His name was Jack, I think. Jack Barakat,"

"Can't imagine how the parents must feel," Ryan mumbled, blending the same deep violet in with the black. "Do they know why?"

Mankley shrugged. "He was a good kid, nice grades, maybe a few friends. No one would've guessed why,"

Ryan went quiet after that, getting lost in the new information that was given to him. Suicide was such a heavy topic at their school. In just the past year 3 students had taken their own lives. No one that Ryan knew personally, but then again he didn't know much of anyone outside of his immediate circle.

They painted in silence until Ryan finally checked the clock. 7:12. First period would start in half an hour, and his painting was near finished. The yellow and violet gradient could be touched up, and he had to add the tree line, but other than that he loved it.

"Time to head out?" Mankley asked, wiping for yellow paint on her smock.

"You know it," Ryan washed his paint brushes quickly and grabbed his backpack. "Usual time today?"

Mankley shook her head. "Not today, I have a meeting with Mr. Dorofy,"

Mr. Dorofy was the Junior high's art teacher, but the taught advanced art classes in the Senior high as well.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning then," Ryan pulled his hood over his head. "See ya,"

The hallways were busy now, kids ranging from Freshman to Seniors all huddled together in groups. If you didn't have a group, or you weren't attached at the hip, you were stuck with walking the halls alone.

It was rough, but Ryan managed his way around. After all, he'd done it for years now.

He found Patrick and Tyler in their normal meeting spot. The space under a flight of stairs beside the library. It was a safe space for them, and big enough to hold all six of their group.

"Morning boys," Ryan sighed, throwing his backpack and sitting against the wall.

"You have paint on your face," Patrick licked his thumb and began to rub it off. Ryan didn't stop him, Patrick was like a mother to him.

"So, Ross," Tyler grinned. Ryan immediately braced himself. "You're talking to Urie?"

" _No_." Ryan crossed his arms. "I blocked him again,"

It was true, Ryan had left Urie on read and blocked his sorry ass as soon as he could.

"That's not what Pattycakes said," Tyler gestured at the blonde next to him.

"Patrick!" Ryan whined, slugging his friend in the arm. "I told you not to say anything!"

Patrick yelped, holding his nearly bruised arm in defense. "You weren't going to tell him so it was up to me!"

Ryan rubbed his temples. "I'm not talking to him. I don't like him, you both know that as well as anyone else."

Both boys nodded and dropped their heads in time for the five minute warning bell.

"I better go..." Ryan sighed, checking his watch again. He hauled himself up, grabbing his backpack in the process.

"Ryan," He turned and looked at his friends. Tyler was holding the same bashful smile he always did. "Be careful today,"

It was Ryan's turn to return the smile, adding his own little eye roll.

"Thanks Mom."


	3. Two

-!-

Lunch was the worst time of day.

Cramming an entire grade and then some into a cafeteria that was only built to hold about 250? Bad idea.

But it was okay for Ryan since their booth was close to the door, yet close enough to people watch when he wasn't interested in conversation. It was always open, because no one wanted to sit in a booth with the same kids who sat in a dusty old staircase most of their highschool days.

The noise level was usually fairly tame for a cafeteria, but today was very different when Ryan sat down in his place next to Gee and Tyler. A whole crowd of people were gathered over one table. Ryan knew that table. It was Urie and his dickhead friends.

"What's going on?" He asked, taking a french fry from Tyler's tray. He ignored the protective glare.

"Looks like the Jocks are having their own kind of party over there," Gee rolled his eyes and watched his boyfriend from across the room. Frank Iero might've been a Jock, but he was very good at keeping a secret. No one knew they were dating besides the group and they all swore themselves to secrecy as well.

"Well they should knock it off before Caldwell gets in here," Tyler smacked Ryan's thieving hand once again, referring to the principal.

"Ross!"

Ryan hadn't the time to register what was happening before he felt someone push him into his empty side of the booth and sit down.

It was Josh Dun, one of the Jocks, one of the dickheads that hung out with Urie. And he already had tattoos. Ryan heard the rumors that he did them himself, but didn't believe them for a second.

"What do you want?" Ryan spat, giving a sideways glare to the boy next to him.

"Easy, easy. I just wanted to chat," Ryan watched as Josh reached across the table and grabbed a few fries from Tyler's plate.

Tyler didn't do anything but glare at the purple haired boy.

"Word on the street is that you're being a little bit of a bitch to my friend over there," He gestured at the Jock table with a fry in hand.

Ryan's eyes followed. The entire table was watching them with sick grins on their faces, girls and guys alike. They were whispering things to each other, Ryan could see and hear a few of them laugh. He averted his gaze before he caught anyone's eye.

His cheeks instantly burned. He hated hat kind of attention.

"Fuck off, Josh," Gee snapped suddenly. It startled all three of them. Gerard hardly ever swore at people he didn't know, and when he did it was a serious thing.

"What'd you say to me?" Josh's posture instantly straightened. He glared straight at Gerard, who realized his mistake and cowered back. Ryan instantly put himself between Gee and Josh. Josh's eyes could damn near burn holes through ayone that opposed to him.

"He said to  _fuck off_ ,"

All four pairs of eyes flew up to none other than Pete Wentz, glaring harshly at the Jock. Relief washed over Ryan's nerves as he slipped back into his proper seat at the table. "And you're in my seat, but you probably didn't realize that so I'll ask nicely.  _Get the fuck. Out. Of my seat_ ,"

It wasn't exactly his seat, but Ryan wasn't about to say that.

Pete might as well have had steam spewing from his ears. The look of agression on his face was priceless, and it had Josh Dun possibly scared out of his wits. It had one of the most feared people in the entire school  _terrified_. And Ryan was enjoying the hell out of it.

Josh scrambled fro his place next to Ryan, his face going red before muttering a weak 'losers' under his breath.

"Pete Wentz, you are a gift from Hell," Tyler praised, finishing off the rest of his fries before anyone else could steal them from him.

Ryan nodded in agreement, but focused more of his attention on the table across the room. The larger group had dispersed upon seeing Josh's failure to successfully intimidate them.

Ryan was sure he was getting shit for it, the way Josh held himself at the table was low. But it appalled Ryan that making fun of him and his friends was some kind of sick entertainment for them.

Ryan fell into his thoughts. Josh had asked him why he was being bitchy toward 'his friend'. Anyone in their right mind knew he was talking about Urie. But why would Urie send Josh over to talk to him and it when he was sitting at that table right there?

He never really was the best at expressing himself, and maybe Ryan wasn't either, but at least he didn't use his friends as a puppet.

-!-

School wasn't something too important to Ryan, sure he had decent grades and kept them up whenever his aunt prompted him to, but he wasn't obsessed with perfection and worried about college like most kids in his grade were at the time.

Ryan was happily doing his own thing, and he had people to back him up for it.

"I'm home!" He called as soon as he walked inside, shoving a coconut wafer into his mouth that his aunt had kept on the kitchen counter. He tossed his car keys ad listened with a smile as the sound of paws scrambled across the hardwood floor.

A fairly large Samoyeds bounded into the kitchen, tripped subtly on his far too large paws, and circled around Ryan twice before jumping at his legs.

"Hi Flynn, hi, I know you missed me," Ryan knelt down and rubbed the dog's ears roughly, watching his curled fluffy tail whip back and forth.

"He's sure excited to see you," His Aunt Jade laughed lightheartedly from the doorway.

"He's always excited," Ryan picked Flynn up by his front paws and let him balance on his hind legs until he jumped down himself.

Aunt Jade and Flynn were the closest thing to a family Ryan had. But Jade acted as more of a roommate than a guardian, which Ryan appreciated. But she definitely put him in his place when he needed it.

They'd lived together a few years, but had finally decided on getting a dog after the house began to feel all too quiet.

"How was school?" Jade asked. She reached into the cupboard and grabbed a box of Mac n cheese.

Ryan shrugged. "School. Same as always,"

"Yeah? Well go get your homework done while I make this," Jade sighed. "And I promise you I won't burn it this time,"

That was a fun night, scraping burnt artificial cheese from the bottom of the pan, albeit Ryan had spent 3 hours working on the pan just for the handle to snap in half when he got angry at it.

He didn't attend school the next day, the dreaded feelig of salt practically dripping from his pores. He would have snapped, just like the pan dangle.

"If you do, I'm not cleaning it this time," He called from the stairs. Jade's groan made him laugh as he tossed his paint stained backpack on his bed.

His room was okay. His bedsheets were a dark violet, which contrasted with the bright white pillows and mahogany headboard. His blue-gray walls were nearly covered in band posters and vinyl covers he posessed. His prize possessions, of course, were his guitars.

5 of them, lining the wall next to his door. Each of them were completely different from each other, but he loved them all the same.

His room was like a visual tribute to Ryan himself. It was the main spot for his friends to hang out, since Jade didn't mind who came in the house or when, as long as they "didn't do drugs that were too horrible".

The only thing Ryan hated was his window placement. Sure he adored his bay windows, it was his designated playing spot.

What he hated was the window by his bed. The one facing directly toward Urie's house, and his  _bedroom_. Not only could he see everything in his room, but he could see everything that went on in there.

All the girls, all the fights, all the parties. He hadn't a care in the world about cosing that damn window, Ryan had to keep his curtain closet majority of the time. Summers were just awful.

The worst thing was that the window was directly above a slightly slanted rooftop, seemingly a perfect playing spot instead of his window. The only time he could enjoy sitting out there was when Urie wasn't home, but Urie was  _always home_.

For a popular guy he really didn't go out as much as Ryan assumed people with social lives did. Ryan was stuck with him, wherever he went.

And he hated it.


	4. Three

-!-

Ryan thought he was the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

Scoring one friend in Phys Ed class was alright, but scoring two was a damn present. He was in one of two PE classes, one for the smaller scrawnier kids, and one for the big tough guys who thought benching 300 pounds was like lifting a stick. Students had a choice of which they wanted to be in.

One can only guess which one Ryan chose.

"Ryan! Let's go were gonna be late. Avi's gonna make us run laps again, and I am not going face first into the track again," Mikey Way shouted at Ryan from across the locker room, his white glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

Ryan was  _not_ going to run laps around the track again, not in the boiling weather they've been having. He didn't sweat, but red rashy skin had to of been worse.

He shoved his shirt over his head, creating a mess of his hair. He didn't care. Patrick was next to him, humming to himself peacefully, not giving two flying fucks about the laps. In fact, Patrick prefered laps over anything else, including Capture the Flag.

"Easy Mikes," Patrick chuckled. "I'm sure Ry won't trip you this time,"

"I did not trip him! I was simply stretching my legs in his general direction. I'm innocent!" Ryan stumbled slightly getting his ratty old Converse back on his feet.

Mikey scoffed from the lockers behind them. "Don't give me that innocent bullshit. You're the worst of us, Ryan," Ryan could feel the smirk forming on his face from 10 feet away. "Remember that one time you face planted into Mrs. Collins' boobs?"

"Michael Way I will not hesitate to kick your ass!"

-!-

Ryan was absolutely beat. Late laps had made him suffer. Again. Only because he was the last one out of the locker room. He sat next to Patrick on the outdoor bleachers, skin feeling sticky and hot, throat dry from running for 7 minutes straight.

"How you holding up?" Patrick chuckled slightly, nudging him with his elbow. His shirt was stained with what Ryan assumed was a mix of sweat and water.

"A little worse than last time," He panted, stealing Mikey's water bottle in the middle of his drink. It earned him a disturbed waterlogged whine and a punch in the shoulder. It didn't hurt as much as his lungs.

"Listen up boys," Mr. Avi spoke in hes gruff, yet soft voice. Avi was their PE teacher, and the best one at that. He gave a shit about their well being, as well as their health. Ryan shuffled in his seat slightly. The bleachers were cold.

"Now I know you chose this class to get away from them, but I hope you all hear me out when I say those baboons in Mr. Levi's class will be joining us in the swim unit next class," He finished with a lighthearted chuckle.

"Ew," Mikey was the first to react. "We don't even know who's in that class,"

"Thank you Michael, that is an excellent point. Which is why," Ani pointed toward the field next to theirs. Ryan could see a group of boys walking toward them. Three in particular that made Ryan groan in his seat. And not in a good way. "We will be spending the rest of the class becoming acquainted to them,"

Ryan's class watched as the group of boys wandered up the hill in front of the bleachers, standing in a huddled group., mumbling things to each other like a group of bitchy teenagers. Ryan's eyes were glued to his shoes, but he could hear the dumb voies of the jocks. Brendon Urie stood at the head of the group, along with his friend Spencer Smith, who Ryan didn't know very much about as it was, and Frank.

Frank gave Ryan, Patrick, and Mikey a solemn nod of acknowledgement before turning back to Spencer. Ryan shrunk back in the bleachers, ignoring Mikey's outraged mutters under his breath. Thought he agreed with them completely.

"Why are we doing this again?" Mikey raised his voice. Murmurs of agreement spread through the class.

"Because it's a nice way to get you boys associated with students you otherwise would just ignore competely," Mr. Levi spoke for Avi.

Ryan frowned. "Won't we just ignore each other outside of class anyways?"

The comment obviously had both PE teachers stumped.

" _Anyways,_ " Avi chimed in, eyes flashing Ryan a warning look. Ryan was very used to that look at this point. Avi tapped his pen to his clipboard loudly to attact attention from both groups of boys.

"Since you all are hardly acquainted to each otehr, Mr. Levi and I thought we'd take a little break from the lesson and come up with a few icebreakers,"

Ryan didn't know what a group of collective groans sounded like until that moment.

"Oh don't give me that. Let's go, off the bleachers," Levi huffed, kicking the seats until the kids of Ryan's class begn getting up. Ryan was the last one to the grass, watching as the group sat in one big circle.He was half expecting his 4th grade gym teacher to pop out of nowhere with square scooters and a big colorful tarp. He missed parachute days.

"Lighten up you guys, this is supposed to be fun," Avi began when Ryan slipped into his place between Mikey and Patrick.

"You grew up in the 80s of course this is fun for you," Mikey muttered under his breath. Ryan choked on his laughter, attempting to disguise it as a little cough but to no avail. Avi looked up at him and pointed with the tip of his pen.

"Since you're so talkative today, Mr. Ross, why don't you start us off?"

"How am I supposed to do that?" Ryan shoved his friend next to him when he laughed.

"Tell us something interesting about yourself; like hobbies or sports you play,"

A small ripple of chuckles came from the other side of the circle at the prompt. It was easy to tell Ryan didn't play many sports, he wasn't exactly ripped. And maybe his choice of hym class gave it away too.

"I, um..." His cheeks burned. "I play guitar?" He spoke in a question in case it wasn't enough to satisfy the original question.

"Excellent," Avi scribbled something on the board. Ryan assumed it was a participation grade and let out a breath when he moved onto Patrick next to him.

Ryan learned a mountain of new things by the time they got to half the group. Spencer played basketball as well as football. Frank had a band, the name of which Ryan couldn't remember. A boy Will in his class collected novelty t-shirts, Andy already had 8 tattoos. Vic had been to 27 different concerts total, all different performers. Gabe's favorite cereal was Reese's Puffs.

The whole exercise made Ryan think he might've had the most boring life in the whole school.

"And last but not least, Mr. Urie. Tell us something about yourself,"

The entire group was eerily silent for a few moments until Urie opened his mouth.

"I lost my best friend a few years ago," Urie spoke steadily, but a little offput from his normal cheery tone.

He looked up to see Urie looking right at him. Ryan caught himself holding his breath.

"And I wish I knew why,"

The group of boys fell even more into silence, because none of them had been expecting Urie's confession to be so real. None of them knew about the friend in the first place.

"Well," Avi spoke solemnly when Urie didn't continue and wrote something more on his paper. He wrote a little longer than previous times. "Thank you for sharing boys, wasn't that fun?"

Ryan wished Avi would give up and take the silence as a hard no. He swallowed hard when Levi told them they could return to the building. Patrick tried to offer Ryan a hand up, but he was gone by the time his friend could even get to his feet himself. Ryan was the first one back inside.


	5. Four

Brenny has requested to chat

ACCEPT?

_ACCEPTED_

**You**

What

**Brenny**

I need your help.

**You**

Congratulations. Want a pony while you're at it?

**Brenny**

It's hard for me not to kick your ass sometimes

**You**

I'm flattered.

**Brenny**

You're driving with me to school tomorrow.

**You**

I am not.

**Brenny**

Why not?

**You**

Why does it matter?

**Brenny**

Because we used to do it all the time.

_Seen_

-!-

The sky wasn't it's usual brilliant violet when Ryan pulled into the parking lot, it was dark grey and stormy. If Ryan was normal maybe he'd be upset about it, but he wasn't. He loved rain.

The school was upsettingly quiet as Ryan walked through the plain halls. He turned the familiar corner of that art wing, but was greeted with pure silence. It was almost eerie, Mankley's music was always the first thing Ryan heard in the hall. An uncomfortable feeling bloomed in his gut as he stalled outside the classroom for a few seconds.

The quiet seeped into his veins just as sour as his anxiety. Was Mankley mad at him? Maybe it was just a substitute, or was he about to be shunned from his job and replaced with someone not as problematic as he was?

Ryan held his breath, his face going redwith desire to know what the hell was going on. He walked into the classroom, as if nothing was wrong. He sat his bag down at a desk and kept his head bowed to avoid eye contact with the teacher.

"Ryan! Good morning! There's someone I want you to meet,"

She sounded happy. Ryan glanced up at his teacher, noting the splotches of magenta and teal on her cheeks, and stopped in his tracks instantly.

"What the fuck is  _he_ doing here?"

Urie stood wielding a red dipped paint brush at  _Ryan's_ designated easel, stupid thick framed glasses perched on the bridge of his stupid nose. His eyes were practically glowing with victory when he looked over his shoulder at the brunette with a small smile.

Mankley's expression changed from excitement to confusion at Ryan's choice of words, glancing at Urie apologetically before looking back at Ryan, who was absolutely glaring at the older boy.

"I suppose you two.. know each other?"

"Something like that," Urie replied simply with a shrug, mixing his reds with black on the easel.

"Well," Mankley looked almost concerned for Urie's well being at the way Ryan was looking at him. "Ryan, Brendon here is going to be my second intern. He needs the credits,"

"No," Ryan shot back instantly, his cheeks tinted red with a slight anger and outrage.

"Excuse me?" Mankley gave him a look.

Ryan tore his eyes from Urie to Mankley and instantly softened, guilt rising in his gut that he just yelled at his favorite teacher. Despite the fact that Urie was standing right in the room, the urge to cry was clawing at the backs of his eyes.

He shook his head, averting his eyes. If he started crying, Mankley would go into full mother mode and pester him, and he'd never hear the end of it from Urie.

"Sorry," Ryan unzipped his backpack and grabbed out a small sketchbook that was required for his art class. "Can I just draw today?"

Mankley nodded. "Of course, but I have to get ready to go soon, hun. Got another meeting." She shook her head and went back to her desk.

Ryan simply nodded and scrambled to the side of the room with the large escape windows. He crawled onto the counter, careful not to knock over any drying paints and ceramics from other classes. The window corner was Ryan's favorite place to draw, that way he had a full scope of the room to get inspired by what he saw.

But today it was a little different. He felt off. Usually it was only him and Mankley, and she knew to leave him alone when he drew. But now it was him and Urie. The feeling of eyes bore into his skin and his chest grew heavier ever few seconds.

Ryan didn't want to talk. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to hear Urie's stupid speech about how dumb this all was.

He wanted Patrick. He wanted his hair played with to calm him down. He wanted to hear Patrick hum and just talk because he know it would distract Ryan from his own issues with the world.

He didn't want to be stuck in a classroom with someone he's hated since grade school.

"Ryan,"

Ryan was so lost in his own world he didn't even hear Urie talking to him. He didn't hear Mankley leave either. Her absence stung slightly. Ryan tapped his finger against the window sill rapidly. Now they were really alone.

"Ryan, talk to me," Urie had little black paint swipes on his cheeks. It reminded Ryan of football games.

The brunette only looked at him. A neutral look. One that meant nothing but everything at the same time.

Urie's posture visibly changed from confident to uncomfortable within seconds of Ryan's eyes bein on him. Ryan wondered why.

"Look. I know you hate me for whatever reason bu-"

"You know  _exactly_ why," Ryan interrupted him suddenly, making even himself jump. "Don't fucking act like you don't,"

Ryan slipped from his spot on the counter toward the door easily and felt Urie's eyes follow him. A slight feeling of triumph fluttered in his chest. He had Urie beat.

"Goddamnit-"

Ryan hardly had time to process what was happening until his back was against the wall and Urie had his wrists pinned above him. His head spun for a few moments, trying to tie together just how fast Urie had his way with him. He hated it.

Ryan gaped at him for a moment, shock making his blood run cold as well as scorching hot.

"Just shut up and listen-," Urie's grip tightened as Ryan tried twisting his wrists free, his nails digging into the flesh hard enough to make Ryan hiss.

" _Fuck you,_ " Ryan snapped, kicking his legs forward to try and catch Urie off guard and shove him off, but his plan shattered as Urie dug his knee into his thigh brutally. Ryan winced and flinched back, the pain only fueling his urge to get away from him.

"God-" Urie brought Ryan's wrists forward and slammed them back into the wall, stilling the brunette permanently. "Would you just fucking listen to me? This wouldn't have happened if you weren't such a stubborn bitch,"

"You're only upset because you can't handle me," Ryan shot back, eyes glaring daggers at the raven.

"Would you shut your mouth for once?"

Ryan's fingers curled into fists, a sharp feeling growing in him.

"Make me,"

Urie froze for a second, a far away glint in his eyes as he stared at the boy below him with a slight shock. Ryan instantly looked back at him, gritting his teeth. He searched his face and eyes for any sign of expectancey.

A surge of fear and anxiety spilled into Ryan's body with such intensity his eyes began to water. The confident feeling flickered and died just as soon as it lit. Ryan tried coming up with something more to say, but his mind was just as static as his words, and all that exited his throat was a small croak.

"J-just get the fuck off of me," He easily twisted his wrists free from Urie's flustered composure. The raven allowed himself to be shoved back by the brunette, who frantically grabbed and stuffed his things into his backpack.

He could barely bring himself to look at Urie, but if there was any time he wished he could disappear it would be now. Air seemed to be non-existent at that point, Ryan's chest burned to take a breath but his will wouldn't let him.

Getting out of that classroom was all that concerned him. Getting away from Urie even more so.

He didn't stop to grab his sketchbook again. He didn't check his watch to make sure the time was right.

Ryan simply left.

Leaving a red covered Brendon Urie to stare after him.

-!-

"Ryan?" Pete.

He was an odd character, mainly because no one really knew much about him. But Patrick liked him, and if he liked him he was allowed to stay. He might've been the misfit of the group but he was family. He acted like he didn't care about anything, but Ryan knew that was just a defense mechanism. Hell, he did the same thing time to time.

"Ryan, you look dead," Tyler looked at him, his brown eyes squinted as he examined Ryan's face.

The brunette looked dead at his friend and smiled. "I wish I was,"

"Woah! Ryan! No, we talked about this," Patrick jumped up from the table and jutted his bottom lip out, giving his best friend a look Ryan knew all too well.

The brunette gave him a sheepish smile. "I know, sorry Trick. I'll tell you why tonight, alright?"

With a huff, the blonde sat again, stealing a few concerned glances at his friend before continuing his conversation with Pete about god knows what.

Ryan's thoughts were only focused on one thing.

He watched subtly across the cafeteria at the much bigger and brighter cluster and tables, his eyes mindlessly searching for the certain boy that he'd encountered that morning.

It wasn't that Ryan wanted his mind to be wired to look for Urie, but he couldn't shut it down. He couldn't kill his mind long enough for it to forget about what happened with Urie, no matter how much he wanted it to.

Ryan's breath caught in his throat when his eyes landed on the person they were searching for. Urie was sitting with Josh and Spencer, Frank sure to be with Gee, who disappeared soon after he arrived at lunch.

A small burn flickered in his temples and chest, his fingers fidgeting with the broken elastic that lined the booth table.

Everything about the day was just so  _wrong_. So stupidly out of place, Ryan was half sure he'd fallen into a rabbit hole and this was his own stupid Wonderland. This was mad for sure, but the only one who could see it was Ryan.

His mind a mess, Ryan barely processed the bell ringing, his legs sprouting minds of their own and guiding him to his next classes smoothly.

Ryan, physically, was there But his thoughts were far, far away.

Farther than Wonderland.


End file.
